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Authors: Donna Fletcher

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Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection (5 page)

BOOK: Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection
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“She must need help by now,” Honora said and
with a kiss to her husband’s cheek she left his side.

He watched her go and thought, as he so often
did, how lucky he was to have married her.

Addie squeezed his arm. “Your father was
relieved and happy when you agreed, even though reluctantly, to
honor the marriage contract to Honora upon your return home. He had
always felt she was the right woman for you.”

“He was right, and I am grateful that he was
a wise man.”

"Champion!” Addie shook her head. “That dog
is forever getting himself into trouble.” She hurried to tend to
the large animal who had become her constant companion shortly
after her husband had died, and who she had thoroughly spoiled.

Cavan took in the scene before him and
smiled. It might look chaotic, but they were happily preparing for
a special celebration, and if it took knocking his brothers’ heads
together to make certain the celebration was festive, so be it.

He grabbed his fur-lined cloak from the peg
on the wall and walked out of the keep.

~~~

Just before Honora reached the kitchen
Lachlan’s wife Alyce caught her by the arm.

“Zia needs your help,” Alyce said and tossed
a heavy wool cloak to her.

Honora draped it over her shoulders as she
followed her sister-in-law out of the keep. She had no siblings,
and so her three sister-in-laws had become true sisters to her.
Carissa, Ronan’s wife joined them along the way.

“I heard Zia needed help,” Carissa said.

“Not sure what it’s about,” Alyce said. “I
only know it’s urgent.”

They hurried along knowing Zia well enough to
know that urgent meant a serious matter and in no time they were at
Zia’s healing cottage.

Usually calm and confident, it was surprising
to see Zia, her long red hair with blond streaks flying wildly
about her and her green eyes aglow with worry.

Alyce, the most analytical of them took hold
of her arm and spoke calmly. “Tell us what’s wrong and we’ll
help.”

“Holly, the young girl who arrived here with
her husband Patrick only a few days ago and about ready to give
birth has gone into labor. She’s been having some problems, and I
fear she may bleed more than she should. I have searched my entire
cottage and can find no root plant to help stem the bleeding. And I
have no time to go collect some.”

“I’ll go get what you need,” Alyce
offered.

At that moment a servant came running into
the cottage upset. It seemed there was a mishap in the kitchen and
Roark and Ryan needed immediate attention. Alyce and Carissa went
running.

Zia grabbed her healing basket, she kept in
readiness by the door, and stopped to cast pleading eyes at
Honora.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get Neddie to help me find
what you need.”

“You’ll need to hurry,” Zia said and was out
the door.

Honora didn’t waste a moment. She found
Neddie, Zia’s helper and they were soon hurrying across the snow
covered moors to the woods. Gray clouds and bitter cold warned of
more snow, so the two women hurried along, not wanting to get
caught in a storm.

In no time, Neddie found the root plant, and
she and Honora used thick sticks and flat stones to dig up several.
They filled the basket to be certain they had enough.

When they were all done they turned with a
flourish eager to be on their way, stopped with a sudden jolt and
screamed.

~~~

Cavan wrapped his chilled hands around a
tankard of hot cider, his brothers joining him at the table in the
far corner of the great hall, out of the way of the chaos. He
searched the frantic scene for a glimpse of his wife and not seeing
her thought she was probably still with the children in the
kitchen. As soon as he finished here with his brothers he would
find her. He had an uneasy feeling, especially since when outside
with his brothers he had thought for sure he had heard her call out
to him. And not a simple shout but a fearful one, and it had
troubled him. It was one of the reasons why he had suggested they
return to the hall, to look for his wife and that the weather had
turned bitter cold, puffs of smoke accenting every word.

“Hagen’s a good man,” Lachlan said
reiterating what they all thought.

“Yet you object to the marriage?” Cavan
asked.

“I don’t think it is that we object,” Artair
said. “I believe it is simply difficult for us to accept that
mother loves another man, that Christmas was special to father, and
she weds another on that day.”

“Father always did enjoy the day,” Ronan said
with a smile. “Remember how he would sing the loudest when the
villagers gathered around the bonfire?”

“And how he would warn us with a twinkle in
his eyes that if we dared let the Yule log go cold on Christmas Eve
the elves would come down the chimney and create havoc,” Lachlan
said with a laugh.

The four brothers turned silent, the loving
memories having them missing their father.

Cavan finally spoke up. “I think father would
be pleased that mum was getting married on such a special day. She
has been alone long enough.”

“She has us and the grandchildren,” Ronan
said.

“She needs more or so my wife tells me,”
Artair said.

Cavan nodded. “Honora tells me the same.”

“I stopped Alyce before she told me too much
of what I didn’t want to hear,” Lachlan said.

“Carissa made me listen to what she had to
say about mum and Hagen,” Ronan confessed.

“I think we all agree that mum is happy and
we want her to stay that way,” Cavan said. “And that Hagen is a
good man and treats her well.”

“He better,” Ronan said with a raised fist
and Artair and Lachlan nodded.

At that moment Hagen entered the hall, a big
man with not a hair on his head but a joyous smile on his face. He
hurried over to Addie, wrapped her in a huge hug and gave her a
sound kiss. Their mother blushed, laughed and kissed him back.

“Mum certainly is happy,” Ronan said.

“And she’d like us to be happy for her,”
Cavan said. “I think we should give her that.”

With some reluctance, the three nodded.

A servant rushed in from the kitchen and
spoke rapidly to Addie. She along with Hagen hurried over to her
sons. At her anxious approach they all stood.

“A bit of a mishap with Roark and Ryan,”
Addie said, “though I’m assured it’s nothing serious.”

Lachlan and Ronan got to their feet just as
their wives carried the two boys into the great hall, tears still
wet on their flushed cheeks.

The fathers’ hurried to their sons and Artair
and Cavan followed along with Hagen and Addie.

“A fall and a bump nothing more,” Alyce
assured Lachlan as he reached for his son.

“The same here,” Carissa said.

Ryan’s little arms reached anxiously out to
his father and wrapped tightly around his neck once Ronan took hold
of him.

“Where’s Zia?” Artair asked. “I assume she
saw to the lads.”

“And Honora, where is she?” Cavan asked.

Before anyone could answer Neddie came
running into the hall screaming, “He took her. He took her. The
giant took Honora.”

Cavan ran over to Neddie who had collapsed to
her knees, the root plants spilling from the basket clenched
tightly in her hand. He bent down beside her. “What do you mean?
Who took my wife?”

Addie stooped down, wrapped her arm around
Neddie, who trembled uncontrollably, and helped her to stand. She
guided her over to the table before the hearth and placed a tankard
of hot cider in her hands.

“Zia needs the roots. You must get her the
roots,” Neddie pleaded.

“Do not worry, we will see that Zia gets the
roots,” Addie said softly and motioned to a servant to take care of
it. “Now warm yourself with the cider and tell us what
happened.”

Cavan was relieved his mother had handled
Neddie so well. He would have simply shaken her senseless trying to
get answers. As it was, his heart was pounding so hard that he
thought it would burst from his chest and his stomach twisted with
fear.

“We were finished collecting the root plants
that Zia needed right away. We turned to leave the woods—” Neddie
turned silent.

What was his wife doing in the woods and why
hadn’t she told him she was going there? He would have never let
her and Neddie go alone. But then she was familiar with the woods,
her mother having taken her there often when she was young. Still,
she should not have gone alone. If she was in front of him now he’d
throttle her. No, he wouldn’t. He would hug her tight and not let
her go.

Neddie finally continued. “He just stood
there, he did. He was broad as he was tall, a giant he was. Wore
mostly furs. His hair the color of the sun on the brightest day and
a face—” She blessed herself. “Sinful features that caught the
breath.” She shook her head. “He scooped Honora up, tossed her over
his shoulder and was gone in a flash.”

Cavan glared at her knowing there was more
than she was telling.

Neddie shuddered and reluctantly met his dark
brown eyes. “Bless her soul; she called out for you, as if you
would hear her.”

And he had, good lord, he had heard her. When
would he realize how thoroughly they had been joined? Honora often
knew what he thought, finishing his words before he could, and it
was the same for him. It was as if they were one, never to be
separated, for neither could survive without the other.

“We should gather the men,” Lachlan said
handing his son to his wife.

Ronan kissed his son’s cheek then returned
him to his mother. “I’ll see to the weapons.”

“I’ll see if Neddie can detail the location
of where she and Honora gathered the root plants,” Artair said.

“I’ll never forget the spot,” Neddie
said.

“You best not wait too long,” Alyce advised.
“With the air turning bitter more snow is sure to fall and any
tracks will be lost to you.”

Cavan felt a hand on his arm and he saw that
his mother stood beside him. “Go and bring your wife home in time
for Christmas.”

One day to find his wife, tomorrow being
Christmas and his mother’s wedding day, an occasion his wife had
been so looking forward to.

“Two of you will stay and see to the
protection of the keep, one will come with me,” Cavan ordered
looking to each of his brothers. “It’s up to the three of you to
decide, but hurry, for we leave in five minutes.”

Cavan walked out of the keep and stood on the
steps looking in the direction of the woods. “I will be there soon,
Honora and when I do, I’m going to kill the man who dared to take
you from me.”

~~~

Honora had thought the warrior would tire
after carrying her only a short distance, but he hadn’t. He kept
going, taking her further away from home. Her stomach turned from
the thought or the jostling she wasn’t sure, though she was sure of
one thing... she was afraid.

Fear could help or hinder her predicament,
and she had to be wise in how she dealt with—the large warrior.

His size certainly would be a deterrent in
her ability to escape. Her husband was strong and when playful
would hold her down and tease her with kisses, but he would always
release her so that they could make love without restraints.

The size of this man warned that it would be
impossible to free herself from any hold he placed on her, and the
thought turned her stomach again. She wanted no man but Cavan
touching her, and the possibility that another would brought tears
to her eyes.

She chastised herself for thinking the worst
when she should be spending time trying to plan an escape. She had
escaped captivity from the Barbarians once; she could escape one
lone man, though she had learned later that she had had help from
Carissa. But even though she had been fearful she had taken the
chance. And she was skilled with a dagger thanks to Cavan.

There were options for her to consider,
besides Cavan would follow soon enough. She had to stay strong and
keep herself safe until her husband came for her.

Her first thought was to get him to put her
down. On her feet, she could at least attempt an escape.

“Please,” she pleaded, “please put me
down.”

“No, you’ll try to run, and I
need
you.”

While his response worried her, it also
angered her. He took her captive to satisfy his lust? Or could he
possibly have another need in mind? But what? What could he
possibly need from her?

They continued to travel until he stopped
suddenly and placed her on the ground, though kept a firm hold on
her arm.

“Run and I will catch you and then I will
bind your hands and tether you to me, understand?” he asked, though
it resonated more like a demand.

Honora nodded.

She stared at him as he looked about, as if
determining his location. He looked a descendent of the Norsemen,
though had a bit of a Scottish brogue to him. He could be from the
settlements far north where some of the Vikings remained once they
stopped pillaging and made peace and eventually became more
Scotsman than Norsemen.

Few if any of the Norse ventured far from the
lands they had claimed, and she wondered what he was doing here and
why he had abducted her.

His confused expression made her ask, “You
are unfamiliar with the landscape?”

“I know it well enough,” he snapped and
pushed her to sit on a stump. “Stay put.”

She studied him again as he continued to
determine his surroundings. He was a remarkably handsome man, his
strong features captivating the eyes and senses, not to mention is
blue eyes, the color and brilliance of the deepest blue sapphires.
Even the slight crook of his slim nose didn’t detract from his
superior features. A warrior with such good looks, strength and
determination certainly would not have trouble finding a willing
woman.

BOOK: Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection
10.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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